


A Bit of Honesty

by manixzen



Series: HP Kinktober 2020 [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Frottage, HP Kinktober 2020, Hogwarts Professors, M/M, Making Out, Professor Draco Malfoy, Professor Harry Potter, Semi-Public Sex, Veritaserum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:04:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27120115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manixzen/pseuds/manixzen
Summary: A Hogwarts ball, a spiked punch, Professor Potter and Professor Malfoy on chaperone duty… what could go wrong?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: HP Kinktober 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952512
Comments: 30
Kudos: 379
Collections: HP Kinktober 2020





	A Bit of Honesty

**Author's Note:**

> Written for HP Kinktober 2020  
>  **Day 20: Truth Serum**
> 
> Lily, thank you for the beta and all your support this month! I’m so glad I found GWB ♡.
> 
> queenangelyls, thanks for the early alpha read on this when I was getting stuck!

Harry nodded, trying his best to look interested, taking another sip of his punch. He looked around in vain to see if there were any issues that needed chaperone attention to get out of this conversation with the new Potions professor. Apparently, he was just destined to not particularly like anyone who had that position.

He wished the band would at least play a little louder—make conversations a bit more difficult. But alas, they’d moved onto slow songs for the moment.

Harry normally didn’t mind chaperoning the Snowflake Ball, a more recent Hogwarts annual tradition every February. After a few particularly bad years with Amortentia-laced gifts around Valentine’s Day, Headmistress McGonagall had decided to create a diversion, as it were. A formal ball the weekend before the romantic holiday to pull everyone’s focus from sending gifts and chocolates and onto the panic of finding a date.

Since it was open to second years and up, it made for a very packed Great Hall once dancing was involved, but the kids all loved it. And as Minerva had intended, it pulled the focus from Valentine’s Day and onto an innocuous snow and ice themed event.

A bunch of Second and Third years attempting to both find dates and then dance with said dates made Harry’s Yule Ball experience look positively smooth. And he couldn’t help but be entertained by the mix of innocence and awkwardness that were his students at that age.

Of course, the downside of chaperoning was that his colleagues were all also present and wanting to make small talk all evening. He genuinely liked most of his colleagues, but it seemed he was a magnet for the worst conversations during these events. Last year, he’d spent listening to Trelawney go on about the terrible fates that awaited him the following month. Fortunately, those days his life was rather dull and the worst that had happened was a bad paper cut from a student’s essay.

At present, he was stuck listening to Potions Professor Mangus Altus, who thought extremely highly of himself and exceeding little of everyone else.

Harry grit his teeth as Mangus quoted another one of his own published articles and tried to nod along, plotting his escape. The only other person in his vicinity was the only professor he disliked more than Mangus, so that was of no help.

Harry had somehow managed to survive a whole three years working in the same building as one Draco Malfoy, Charms Professor. Really, he needed to ask Minerva how to get on the next hiring committee to stop this concerning trend of new hires.

“And the Minister, himself, thought that would have been a good idea. I mean, I say. It’s as if he didn’t understand the Law of _Potionis_ _Xeros_.” Mangus laughed condescendingly.

To avoid answering, Harry took a long drink of his “Snowflake” punch and watched the glass refill itself with blue shimmering liquid. It was sadly the only thing to drink at the Ball, as the staff drinking alcohol during official events was generally looked down on.

Mangus finished his own punch and then started on another story about the Review Board for Potions Mastery. Harry realized he may have missed his opportunity to leave.

“Can you imagine? They thought they were going to avoid me!” Mangus asked, taking another drink of the refilled punch.

“I can imagine them trying to avoid you, yes,” Harry replied. His stomach dropping out at the slip of tongue.

Mangus’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Harry scrambled in his brain for a way to fix the situation, and quickly said, “What I meant to say was that I’m sure they don’t like you.” Harry nearly spilt his punch. Where had that come from?

“Well, I say! Of course I know they don’t like me!”

They stared at one another in silence, both horrified at their own admissions.

Slowly, Harry became aware of the rising din of the large hall. Something wasn’t right. No sooner had he had that thought than a group of girls ran past out the Great Hall's doors sobbing.

“Pomona,” Harry called out as the Herbology Professor rushed by. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, Harry. These balls are why I like plants more than people, though.” She immediately clapped a hand over her mouth, shaking her head. “I meant that,” she added. With one last horrified look, she rushed out of the hall after the girls.

And that was when Harry started to recognise the feeling in his brain, the desire to just keep talking and blurt out every true thing he knew. Veritaserum. Oh, Merlin.

He looked around to see chaos breaking out all around the Great Hall. Students crying, fighting, snogging, and well... oh, he should probably put a stop to that. He rushed over to two Sixth Years that looked like they were about to disrobe each other in the middle of the hall.

“Oye. That’s enough.” He pulled the Hufflepuff boy, Trevor, off a Slytherin student of the same year, Clara. “Well, I wouldn’t have guessed that you two would hook up with each other this year,” he said before he could stop himself. Oh, this was bad.

The students looked at him, eyebrows raised.

He grit his teeth, “Just go. And no more snogging!” he hollered after them.

“Attention, students!” Minerva stood at the front of the hall with her wand pointed at her throat. “It appears that the punch may have been doused with Veritaserum.”

A wave of whispers growing in volume, broken up by some remaining sobs, overtook the hall.

“Prefects, gather your students and head to your houses. No gathering in the hallways or common rooms. Everyone is to go straight to bed. Not that I actually expect anyone to listen.” Her lips pursed and she closed her eyes, clearly not having meant to say that last bit. “Houses, now.”

As the students began clearing the Great Hall, she turned to the rest of the staff.

“We’ll need to make sure all students make it to their rooms. For Merlin’s sake, Sybill, stop blubbering! No one wants to listen to you crying all evening.” She took a deep breath. “I apologise for anything I might say. I think it might be best that all staff stay with at least one other staff member to help one another... stay professional.” She looked like she was fighting every instinct she had to stop talking.

Harry thought about all the possible implications and who he could possibly team up with without permanently damaging his professional relationships. Even with the colleagues he liked, there were thoughts he’d rather not share. Perhaps he should just go with Professor Altus, after all, since the damage was already done there.

Of course, as Harry tried not to think of it all of the things he’d rather not share with his colleagues came to the forefront of his mind. Besides his clear distaste of Magnus Altus, there was Trelawney, who’s entire field Harry thought was useless, and then Malfoy. Harry knew his thoughts were far more confusing where he was concerned, a mix of frustration and residual anger from the war, and, now, attraction brimming at the surface at all times. He had no idea what to do with any of that, so his strategy for the past few years had just been to avoid the man as much as possible. 

“Well, it looks like it’s just the two of you left then. Go make sure no students have wandered off,” Minerva said wearily, as she walked towards the doors.

Harry turned to find that Malfoy was the only one left, looking as horrified as Harry felt.

“Minerva, we can’t—”

She stopped a few feet from him, turning and looking at him sternly. “Harry, I cannot begin to tell you how sick I am of the bullshit between you and Professor Malfoy, work it out.” She paused, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “I feel like I should apologise, but I can’t quite say it at the moment. Best that you two get going.”

She turned and walked out, leaving Harry and Malfoy alone in the Hall with the ruin of the Snowflake Ball all around them—chairs tipped over, decorations strewn about, many dropped punch glasses.

“Right. Well, this is going to go terribly,” Malfoy finally said.

“Agreed. Let’s just get this over with.” Harry headed toward the door, not waiting for Malfoy.

Fucking shit. They were going to kill each other. Which might not be the worst thing, Harry thought, breaking out in a cold sweat at the thought of other confessions he might make. Like how Malfoy had really grown into himself, or how his fitted robes made Harry feel a little hot under his. Shit. Harry needed to stop thinking about it, just find other things to focus on before the Veritaserum forced it all out.

Malfoy wasn’t really as bad as he used to be, not that Harry would ever tell him that. He’d grown up and was no longer a Blood Purist, which was a pretty low bar for improvement, but Harry knew he had made an effort beyond that as well. He’d apologised to most of Harry’s friends over the years, even if he never bothered with an apology to Harry himself. Not that Harry cared. It wasn’t like he needed an apology.

But even without being the absolute bastard he’d been in his youth, he was still so maddening. He needled Harry every chance he got, completely ruining all the peace and quiet that Harry had grown to love about Hogwarts now that no one was trying to murder him on the yearly.

Malfoy caught up after a minute, intentionally ramming his shoulder into Harry.

Harry stumbled forward and turned with a glare.

“Something wrong, Potter?”

“Yeah, you,” Harry replied, not concerned in the slightest that the truth serum required his honesty on that statement.

“Salazar, you are such a bastard,” Malfoy replied.

Harry realized they must be more honest with each other than they were with their other colleagues, as this conversation was fairly standard so far. Maybe this wouldn’t be the worst of the possible situations for the evening.

“Oye,” Harry said, as he turned a corner to find two boys, wands drawn, Second-Years if he wasn’t mistaken.

“He said he thinks the sorting hat made a mistake and I’m not smart enough for Ravenclaw,” the one boy cried.

“Well, on the test the oth—”

“That’s enough. No more talking!” Malfoy cut them off. “Back to your rooms, now.”

Both boys turned to Malfoy, and then turned tail immediately and practically ran towards their doors. Harry snorted. He knew Malfoy had a reputation not seen since a certain former Head of Slytherin House. Although Harry knew he was significantly fairer than Snape had been, Charms was now seen as one of the more complicated and serious classes. Harry couldn’t help but appreciate the effect he had on students. 

“Good one,” Harry said before he could stop himself.

Malfoy turned surprised and then smirked. “Oh, I suppose now I can find out if you really hate me as much as you say.”

“Do you really want to start that, Malfoy? Want me to start asking you about your secrets too?”

“No,” Malfoy answered immediately, expression sobering. “I don’t.”

“Okay, then. Why don’t we just not talk?”

“Fine by me.”

They continued down the hall, following sounds of students when they heard them. They caught a gaggle of Slytherin girls whispering and gossiping at the bottom of the next staircase and, then, two Hufflepuff girls crying in an alcove. After listening to the gossip and sob story both groups felt they needed to share, respectively, they sent the students on their way.

The worst thing about Veritaserum, Harry decided, was the urge to just say whatever was on your mind. The truthfulness was bad enough, but it made him want to blurt out every thought he had and it was taking every ounce of energy to fight against that instinct. Malfoy looked similarly strained if the set of his jaw was any indication.

Harry hoped they could make the rounds before one of them cracked.

The next few students were all found behind heavy curtains in various alcoves, having clearly confessed their dying love for one another if the various states of undress were anything to go by. Harry didn’t remember being nearly that randy as a teenager. Granted, he was generally focused on not dying, and possibly just as importantly, he hadn’t quite worked out where his preferences lay until a couple of years after school.

After another fight was broken up, this time with actual hexes being thrown, and the students sent to bed, Harry wiped his forehead. He could feel his resistance failing, so he picked up speed.

“What’s the rush, Potter?” Draco asked, easily matching his pace.

“We need to get done before I say something I regret,” Harry said, a little too honestly.

“Oh, really?” Malfoy asked, an evil glint in his eye.

“Yes. Fuck—don’t ask me any questions!” Harry shoved him to the side as he turned another corner and started taking the next staircase at two steps at a time.

“Are you sure?” Malfoy asked as he caught up.

“No!” Harry shouted. “Fucking damn it, stop Malfoy!”

“But I don’t want to,” Malfoy said and then laughed, probably surprised at his honesty.

“Fine then, let’s do this,” Harry said coming to a stop at the top of the stairs. “Why are you such an absolute git?”

“Probably because I want your attention,” Malfoy answered, eyes widening at the admission.

Harry burst out laughing, spurred on by the increasing look of embarrassment in the other man’s face. “That might be the most honest thing you’ve ever said, Malfoy.”

“Fuck you, Potter. Just because I want your attention—” he looked like he was trying to say something but it wouldn’t come out. “Fuck!”

Malfoy stormed off.

Harry quickly caught up. “So why do you want my attention then?”

Harry knew he was being an arse, but couldn’t help himself. As terrifying as the whole situation was, there was something freeing in Veritaserum, having a reason to just let go of all the pretences.

Malfoy made a choking noise and clamped both hands over his mouth, muffling his response. Once he’d said what he needed to, he turned on Harry, looking furious. “I thought you were supposed to be all noble, was all the nobility just an act? Now you need to humiliate me?”

“I’m not all that noble, Malfoy, well at least not to you,” Harry responded, surprised at his own answer. He knew it was right as soon as he said it, but felt some shame creep in at the realisation.

“Oh yeah? And why is that exactly? Because you think I deserve it? Because I know I do!” Malfoy shouted out, looking even more angry at his own response.

“No,” Harry said, feeling a bit stricken. “It’s not to make you pay.”

“Then what?”

“Because you drive me crazy.” The answer was forced out of Harry, and he couldn’t stop, feeling his resistance finally breaking. “Because you walk around here with your robes swishing and your posh accent, and your face and I see you and I want to throw you up against a wall, and I want to hex your stupid face, and kiss your stupid lips!”

Fuck. Well, there it was.

Draco froze, expression shocked.

Harry decided that was probably a good time to take his leave and save whatever dignity he had left. He turned to head to his rooms. The other staff could finish up the rounds, he needed a stiff drink. God, how was he going to work with Malfoy now?

He only made it a few feet before he was being thrown against the wall, Malfoy’s arm across his chest pinning him there, face flushed.

“What the fuck, Malfoy?” Harry felt his anger rising. It wasn’t like he’d had any choice about confessing his attraction, not with direct questions being thrown around and the Veritaserum still in full effect.

He took a deep breath, about to tell Malfoy as much, but then there were lips on his, hard and fast. Harry moaned into them, unable to do much else, still pinned to the wall by the other man.

Malfoy leaned back, his breath still hot on Harry, eyes searching “What else?” Malfoy breathed. “What else do you want to do to me?”

Harry bit his lip but the Veritaserum continued to force out the truth. He looked in Malfoy’s eyes, his skin flushing with want and whispered, “I want to take off your robes. I want to touch you and bite your neck and leave marks showing that I was there. I want to suck you off right here in the hallway.”

Malfoy inhaled sharply. “Fuck, Potter.” He leaned back in and kissed him again. “I want that too. I want to run my hands through your stupid hair, and lick my way down your stupid body.”

Harry groaned imagining that and tilted his hips just enough to make contact, pulling a soft moan out of the other man. He reached a hand around the back of Malfoy’s neck, in his soft hair, pulling him in for another kiss, slow this time. Slow and needy.

“We can’t do this here,” Malfoy whispered, breaking the kiss. He slipped his hand in Harry’s and pulled him down the hallway. Harry followed willingly, his entire body flushed from that last kiss. He didn’t have time to even consider how terrible of an idea this might be before he was tugged into an alcove, behind a heavy curtain.

As soon as they were behind the curtain, he found himself pushed up against the hard stone again, under attack by Malfoy’s hands, lips. Harry’s head fell back against the rough wall, overwhelmed by the way his entire world had just tilted on its axis. As he tried to get his bearings, Malfoy licked a long strip down his neck and his mind went blank again.

Harry let instinct take over—well, instinct and every fantasy he’d had over the past two years about the man—letting his hands run over Malfoy’s robes, searching for fastenings, pulling, tugging.

They managed to get out of their robes, discarding items of clothing on the floor with abandon. As Malfoy leaned back to work on his own shirt, Harry took the opportunity to push him back against the opposite wall, kissing his neck, licking, biting. The sounds coming out of him were positively obscene, and Harry could feel himself already getting to full hardness.

“Potter, oh fuck. Harry,” Malfoy moaned, tugging at Harry’s shirt.

Harry leaned back to let his shirt be pulled off, sending his glasses clattering on the hard stone somewhere in the alcove. Malfoy was close enough that he could still see him clearly, chest bare. Harry groaned and leaned down to take one of his exposed nipples into his mouth, flicking his tongue until he could feel it pebbling under his ministrations.

“Fuck, come here,” Malfoy pulled him back up, lining up their bodies, not bothering to finish undressing before he lined them up, hardness finding hardness.

“God, Malfoy,” Harry whispered as they started rocking into one another. God, he’d wanted this for so long. In the back of his head, he knew this could be an absolute disaster, but he couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment. He couldn’t let this opportunity pass, even if it was the only one they ever got. Draco’s fingers dug into his arse, pulling him tighter against the man who was pinned beneath him, trembling as they moved in rhythm, chasing their releases.

“Merlin and Morgana!”

Harry jumped back, catching himself against the opposite wall to see Minerva McGonagall in the entry to the alcove, curtain pulled open. Mortification creeping over him, he grabbed at whatever clothes were closest, holding them over his bare chest. Malfoy was similarly scrambling next to him. When he looked back up, he was quite certain he’d never seen a look of speechless shock on Minerva’s face before, mouth agape, eyebrows raised nearly to her hairline. 

“Headmistress,” Malfoy finally said. He looked like he was attempting an air of indifference, but it was undone by the twisted up robes he was awkwardly trying to flatten over his bare chest. 

She looked up at the ceiling and let out a long breath. “The Veritaserum seems to have worn off, diluted as it was. The students are all accounted for, so if you would please cover yourselves, you may head back to your quarters.”

Harry could do nothing but nod dumbly. Malfoy nodded sharply and Harry couldn’t help but notice the bright red complexion he’d taken on.

“Good night, _Professors_ ,” She said stressing that last word with a look before turning and heading down the hall, a quick staccato of her shoes echoing off the walls as she kept a fast pace.

“So we should, erm—” Harry started after a few uncomfortable moments.

“Right,” Malfoy said, not moving.

Harry reached down for whatever Gryffindor courage he had and blurted out, “My rooms are just down the—”

He didn’t get out the last word before Malfoys lips cut him off, pressing back against him urgently.

“Okay, yes,” Malfoy breathed. “Let’s do that.”

Harry smiled against his lips. They quickly threw on their robes, carrying the rest of their clothing, before heading towards Harry’s quarters at an almost run, giggling like students.

It might have taken too long and required some spiked-punch to get to this point, but Harry knew now that the truth was out there, there was no way of putting it away. Because when had they ever been able to hold back where the other was concerned?


End file.
